Rough Waters
by KBlove123
Summary: After all Kurt's been through, when he arrives at his new school, he doesn't expect to make friends with Mercedes Jones, or to be pursued by one Blaine Anderson. But that is exactly what happens. newkid!Kurt badboy!Blaine WARNINGS: for thoughts of suicide and attempted suicide (non descriptive)
1. Prologue

Kurt tightened his grip on his messenger bag from where he stood in front of the building. This was a new place, a place where things could all start again, they could be the same, or they could be completely different.

He doubted that.

This was still Ohio. A new place 2 hours away from his old town wasn't going to change everyone's mindsets.

He looked down his body at his clothes. Jeans and a pale blue button-up. These weren't too bad, but they just weren't him. This was the plainest he had ever dressed and he hated it. But he knew he had to. He had to avoid the way it was at his old school. This would be a good year. Last year was a disaster, so it's only fair, right?

Kurt took a deep breath and took his first step towards the school.

McKinley, here he comes.

**a/n short prologue, future chapters will be longer**


	2. Chapter 1

**a/n Warnings apply this and next chapter! **

**I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! If I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction**

_6 months earlier_

Kurt couldn't sleep.

He was never able to get to sleep nowadays, and when he did, his mind was plagued by nightmares.

He rolled over and groaned at the pain from the bruise on his back. He was never getting to sleep tonight.

He got out of bed and grabbed a random book from his bookshelf. He didn't care what it was. He just wanted to get his mind off of things.

The book turned out to be _The Deathly Hallows_. He sighed and sat down at his desk and began to read the book after he reached to turn on his desk light. He dropped his cheek in his hand and got about 3 pages in before he just quit. He couldn't concentrate and he wasn't even processing the words, just letting his eyes roam over them and when he ran out, flipping the page.

He was tired, he knew that, but he just couldn't go to sleep, and he didn't want to. He hadn't a good dream in months, hadn't even had a dream-less night. It was always nightmares. If he managed to sleep he woke up with sweat covering his chest and a racing heart underneath. He felt like he was living in hell.

School was hell. He was bullied- no, harassed every day. Shoved into lockers, thrown into dumpsters and port-a-potties, yelled at and thrown hateful slurs. There was so much that got done to him and no one seemed to care. The teachers didn't, the students didn't, he had only had one friend the year before but she stopped talking to him after he came out to her.

Home was hell too, but that was his own fault. It was just him and his dad. It had been that way since Kurt's mom died when he was 8. It was him and his dad, and that was what made it worse. Whenever his father would ask him how school was he would say 'fine' and move on. He didn't want to worry his dad, but he could always feel his fathers' eyes on him, he felt like his father knew everything, the bullying, the pain, the loneliness, everything. He was constantly paranoid that his father could see the bruises he tried so hard to hide. Luckily they could almost all be covered with long sleeves and pants. Kurt was always scared his father would find out everything. And that's what made it hell.

He looked to the clock on his nightstand, which flashed back to him as 3:47 am in bright red LEDs. Kurt sighed, there was no use going back to sleep now.

He got up and headed to the kitchen to start the coffee machine, he would need it, like always.

He had made sure to always have at least two cups every morning, after that one time he hadn't had time and had to go to school without any, and fell asleep in first period. When he woke up his shoelaces were tied together, causing him to trip when he didn't notice, and, he discovered later, 'HOMO' was written in black marker on the back of his neck. He had learned to bring scarves every day after that.

He went into the living room and turn on the news to look at what the weather would be like today. Cold and windy. Not unusual for this time of year, but that doesn't mean it's wanted.

Kurt turns off the TV and heads to his room to pick out his outfit, which ended up being a brown shirt and blue jeans, none of which fit well, but he didn't mind all that much, it covered every bruise he currently had and that's all that mattered.

When he finished getting ready, which didn't take long since he was too tired to do much with his hair, he pulled out his laptop- stupid decision. As soon as the screen loaded, he was face to face with his facebook page, which was filled with all the usual slurs, but it made him tear up anyway. He turned his face to the ceiling, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. He wouldn't cry. He couldn't cry. Crying was weakness, and that's what they wanted. He wouldn't be weak, he couldn't be. He exited out of the website and closed the lid on the computer. He decided there was nothing he could do, so Kurt just sat in the bed and closed his eyes, never finding sleep, and, when it was time, went out to catch the bus for school.

The bus was terrible, filled with all the hateful student who hated him for no reason other than _existing_.

He couldn't wait until he got his own car so he could drive himself to Westerville High School.

* * *

He didn't feel like himself by March.

He never did anything. Never _wanted _to do anything. He knew no one cared. And he didn't care.

Things had only gotten worse since January. The boys were more violent in what they dealt to him. What before was locker shoves and shoulder checks, were now discreet punches to the back of his head. No one talked to him unless there were yelling at him for 'choosing' this lifestyle, and angry slurs. Even the teachers barely looked to him or ask him to answer a question.

No one cared.

Kurt didn't feel like anyone but his dad would care if he was gone.

But then his father stated spending more time out of the house.

_He's avoiding me. He doesn't want to be around me. _Kurt thought. He felt it was true.

Would anyone care if he just died? Would anyone shed a single tear? _I don't anyone would even show up to my funeral unless they were forced to._

* * *

By April he was cutting.

Each slice made him feel better, stronger, and more confident that he could make it through the next day. When one of his bullies would tug on his wrist, he felt that bit of pained from barely healed cuts, and he felt better, no matter what happened afterwards. And when he got home after, another cut made the pain from bullies dissipate. After a few weeks, it was almost like a routine, come home, do homework, cut. He felt better, more than he ever remembered being, he liked the way he felt when the blade of the razor cut his skin, like he wasn't numb anymore. It felt amazing.

So he kept doing it.

* * *

Kurt could tell his father was suspicious in late April.

He would hold his gaze longer, and ask more about his day. When Kurt would answer more than he had in a few months, he thought school was getting better and left it at that.

But then, in May, he saw that whenever he asked that question, Kurt would freeze for a second and then his left arm would start shaking, just the tiniest little bit, and he would keep his head down and answer with 'fine' yet again, in a voice he hated from his son, the one where there was absolutely no emotion, and it was like his little Kurt wasn't there half the time. And after he was released, he would rush to his room and close his door just a little too quickly.

Burt put it off once as again as maybe having a few people being mean to him, or just teenage pulling away from parents stage.

He should have said something then.

* * *

By late June, Kurt felt like he was dying in the heat.

He was wearing shorts, but he always kept on a long sleeved shirt and did his best to keep the air conditioning turned many degrees lower than it normally would have been. Burt kept complaining about it being _"Too cold. It's summer, not Christmas. You should go out and enjoy it"_ But Kurt couldn't. Because, even inside, he felt hot. Hot with rage, sadness, and self-loathing. Being inside all the time meant he quickly ran out of things to do, and he would turn to the internet. But the internet meant the bullying was back, despite them not being there at all. He received more taunts than he had in school, which was surprising to him, since there were already so many it seemed like they never ended.

Cutting didn't help anymore.

Nothing helped anymore.

He wanted it all to stop hurting.

So he made his plan to stop the hurt.

End it. He would end everything.

**a/n aww poor Kurt things will get better for him I promise (just not yet)**


	3. Chapter 2

**a/n more of the same warnings for this chapter**

**I own nothing. if I did i would be rich. which I'm not**

* * *

The pill bottle wouldn't open.

He tried so hard, but it seemed like it wouldn't budge.

Maybe it was because he was shaking like he was in an earthquake.

This was it. This would be the end to everything. He would finally be free from the bullies, the hateful words, and the painful hits. He would be free.

He finally managed to uncap the bottle, and poured out an undefined amount. It didn't matter, it just needed to be enough. That was what was important. That was all that was important.

He grabbed the cup of water he poured earlier and dumped the pills down his throat, swallowing the water to help them down. He sat, waited, and then…

Darkness.

* * *

Why was there light?

Where was he?

Why was he here?

Numb. He was numb again.

That felt so good.

A smile slipped onto Kurts' face for a small moment, until he felt the pressure on his hand.

He opened his eyes and found another, larger hand covering his own, and he looked up to see his father in a chair next to- wait was he in a hospital? Oh god why was he in a hospital? What- Kurt got a good look of his fathers' face, only to be graced with tear trails, red around where his eyes were closed- looking anything but peaceful- and bags under them. He swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat when he saw that his father was wearing the same clothes he remembered him wearing when he- oh. That's why he was in a hospital. But why? He should be gone now. What had happened?

His father groaned and slowly blinked his eyes open, immediately focusing them on Kurt, and then widening with shock when he saw that he was awake, then his eyes were filled with relief, pain, and regret all at once.

"Kurt," Burt pushed himself out of his chair and gathered Kurt tightly in his arms, like he was hanging on for dear life. "Kurt, oh god I am so sorry I should have known something was up, I shou-"

"Dad, dad" Kurt pushed him back a little so he could into his eyes "W-why are _you_ sorry? You don't have anything to be sorry about…" and when he thought about it, he should be apologizing. Oh, god he was so stupid, he did this to his father. He wouldn't have even said goodbye. "It's me, dad. _I'm_ sorry I- I can't-Kurt suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. His breath was stuck in his throat and he couldn't catch his breath.

"Kurt- Kurt calm down, ok, take deep breaths, calm down, son." Burt ran his hands through his sons' chestnut hair until he started to calm, and breaths came easier. "You shouldn't apologize, Kurt. I was the one who didn't notice that something was so wrong. I should have been there for you, and I wasn't, I love you, son, and I am so sorry."

Kurt's eyes were filled with tears again, taking in his dads' words, but his heart soared when he said '_I love you'_ he had thought his father didn't love him anymore before, and he had thought after what he had done his father would hate him, or at the very least not be comfortable talking to him at all.

"I love you too, dad." His voice was choked, and then he was crying, clutching to his fathers' shirt with all the strength he had, and stayed like that until the nurse came in to check on him a couple of minutes later. She silently checked his charts, and a bunch of other things that Kurt had no idea what they were or what they stood for. She asked a few questions, like how he was feeling and if he wanted water, to which he answered yes, and she went to abide to his wish.

"Dad," Kurt said, once she had left. He swallowed the new lump in his throat "w-what happened?" his voice was so small Kurt cringed when he was finished, both for that and knowing he wouldn't want to know what the answer was

"That- it doesn't matter right now, Kurt. You just get some sleep, ok?" Kurt knew it wasn't a question, and he did his best to, and after finding a comfortable position, eventually did.

It was first time in almost a year that he didn't have any nightmares.

It was amazing.

* * *

A week later and Kurt was out of the hospital, diagnosed with depression, given medication to control it, and was currently sitting at the dinner table with his dad, who was wearing a serious expression, one he had worn far too much in this past week.

They had been sitting in silence for over 10 minutes, and Kurt was really starting to worry.

"Dad?"

Burt looked up quickly "Wha- oh, right, um…" Burt looked Kurt in the eyes before he continued "Kurt… we're moving."

"WHAT?" why were they moving? Oh, god it was because of him. The doctors probably told him that Kurt needed to be moved away from the base of his problems and now they were spending money they didn't have to move, probably to a different state, and-

"Kurt, calm down, ok." Burt placed his hand on top of Kurts' shaking one "Look I can't have you going back to that school. Now I know that that private school would be the best place but, buddy I just don't have that kind of money. But I do have enough to get us away from this town, and we will."

Kurt felt like crying again, something he also found himself to be doing too much lately. "You're gonna go to a new school and it'll be better, bud, I promise."

"When?" Kurt whispered

"'bout a week."

Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'll go… pack."

"Kurt," you could hear the warning in Burts' voice, and it killed Kurt to know that Burt thought he was going back to cutting.

"Dad… I- I'm not… doing that, I'm just… packing. Promise." With a curt head nod, albeit still wary look, Burt let him go up to his room, in which he did, in fact, pack all his things away, being especially careful with family pictures, especially ones in which his mother was still in.

* * *

Two weeks later and they had moved into a new house. It had two stories, 3 bedrooms, and 2 baths, and they had most things set up to live in.

Kurt was fully signed up for his new school, William McKinley High School, and would be getting his class schedule soon, and would be going in early to find out where all his classes were so he wasn't lost.

He had a little less than two weeks of summer left. This had been the quickest, and longest summer of his life. It was also the worst.

The rest of The Worst Summer Ever passed quickly and uneventfully, and soon he was standing in front of his new school, hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

* * *

**a/n ok the bad stuff is over! (and the actual songfic part of this story starts next chapter. i don't know where this came from this story was originally going to be so much less depressing) hope you like it! tell me if you do! :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**a/n I'm really sorry, so many excuses for why i didn't post this sooner and i wont bore you with them all but in a nutshell i had a lot of schoolwork, lifework, boredom, and writers block. I had honestly thought i had had another chapter written but i didn't. **

**you should know: i don't own anything except for a mind. one that really like to procrastinate**

**(ps. for any whovians out there reading this, can you spot the reference?)**

* * *

Kurt was emotionless today.

Sometimes the medicine did this, and other times it seemed like it didn't do as much, but today was one of the days he was completely numb and hardly responded to people.

Since it's the first day, there's no reason for him to be alert anyway, and, since the teachers know why he's there- which he hates- they don't make him introduce himself, they don't say anything at all in fact, and Kurt feels like this year will be just like last. Great, just great.

He doesn't even know what class he's in right now, or what period it is, but when he feels a tap on his shoulder he turns around slowly and is faced with the face of a pretty black girl, who smiles at him largely before offering him a hand, which he shakes with caution, slowly, before she introduces herself.

"Hi, I'm Mercedes."

"Kurt." He says slowly

"I just wanted to say welcome, since you're new here, and I noticed you didn't look very excited, I have you for third period Calculus by the way."

Kurt gives a questioning look. He doesn't know why she's being so nice, or why she's talking to him at all. No one talks to him.

"Anyway I just wanted to introduce myself," she said after an awkward moments silence "have a great first day, Kurt."

"Thanks," he says before turning back around in his seat.

The rest of the day goes by in a slow blur of students, teachers, and colors, and soon he's putting all his newly acquired books into his locker at the end of the day.

He lives much closer to the school now, so he can walk home (he has a feeling his father did that on purpose, not that he's really complaining) and as he leaves the schools' parking lot and heads off towards his new house he feels better than he has all day.

About 2 minutes of walking later and he realizes his pockets feel too light, so he checks them, and it turns out to be his lack of keys, so he makes to turn back around to head for the school, when he runs into another body- a hard body- and he begins apologizing profusely while trying to fix this guys jacket, which he finds oddly nice when he discovers the cool fabric of the leather. He looks at the face of the person he ran into and sees a head of dark, curly hair, tan skin, and hazel eyes.

"I'm really sorry I just turned around so fast I didn't know anyone was behind me-" he knew talking wasn't always the best thing to do, but he couldn't shut his mouth up

"It's whatever." The guy says, and shrugs and continues on his path.

Kurt stands there, dumbfounded. That's it? 'Whatever' and move on? Maybe this school wasn't that bad.

He shakes his head and heads to the school, where he finds his keys in his locker- he must have accidentally put them there and been to out of it to remember to pick them up again- and makes his way home yet again.

* * *

The next day he feels better, not great, but better. He's more alert and feels like functioning today, instead of lying down and doing nothing while looking at a white wall like he did yesterday. He gets ready for school and then uses his spare time to make sure his hair is just the way he wants it, feeling braver from his encounter yesterday with curls- yes, curls- that people here are at least a little more open-minded, or at least don't care. As he heads to the school, he starts to feel even better. Maybe it's the fresh air.

He looks at his first class for the day- French- and makes his way there quickly and happily, he loves French, and finds a seat in the middle.

The class goes by as expected, boring, first day stuff again, so they don't do much, or speak much French.

His second class is Chemistry, which he is considerably less excited for, and finds an empty seat in the back row. As the class starts to fill in, some people looking at him curiously, his anxiety increases. _They won't do anything. They just don't know you. New kid shock, that's all._ He tries deep breaths, closing his eyes, imagining he's somewhere else, but it doesn't help. He can still feel peoples' gaze on him. _They hate you already- NO! _Kurt shakes his head, trying to clear the thoughts. _The new school changes nothing. People are still the same, they hate you._ He squeezes his eyes shut, desperately wishing for the thoughts to go away. _Is this what it was like yesterday? Why can't the medicine work like it did yesterday?_ He sees more people start to stare at him, and worries even more. The girl in front of his turns around, and that's the last straw. He stands up swiftly and hurries out of the room.

Only when he's out does he notice that he is breathing heavily, panting almost, the unshed tears in his eyes, and- wow his throat his dry.

He stumbles, and his hands shoot forward to soften the blow his body is about to take to the floor, but his hands don't land on the cold, dirty tiles, but instead on the cool press of leather. He looks up and comes face-to-face with the same curly hair and hazel eyes- hazel eyes that are so much more beautiful than yesterday's foggy mind could comprehend.

Kurt prepares an apology, but then the boy is looking at him with a smirk on his face.

"If we keep meeting like this I'll have to assume you like ramming into things. Of course if you like things ramming into you, I could help with that." Kurt's face turned bright red, and the boys smirk grew even wider.

"I- I've gotta go." Kurt attempts to move around him, but a hand catches his arm, and then warm breath is ghosting over his ear.

"The names' Blaine. You'll want to know that for later" The boy- Blaine- pulls back and winks, which only causes Kurt to blush again, and walks in the direction Kurt came from.

About a minute later Kurt realizes two things; one, he's staring after the boy, so he jerks his head forward, and two, he doesn't even know why he's out here, so he heads back to the Chemistry class, entering quietly and heading to his abandoned seat quickly.

"Are you following me, or just trying to get my attention?"

Kurt jumps at the voice close to his ear, and he looks to the left, coming in contact with the gorgeous hazel eyes yet again.

"I- I uh-"

"It's perfectly fine if you were. In fact, why don't I try to get your attention at my place?" Blaine was smirking- seriously was his face stuck like that or something?- and Kurt's eyes were wide open, in shock or fear he didn't know. "Don't be so tense, babe" Blaine slipped a hand on Kurt's thigh, which after being able to process what was happening, Kurt slapped it away.

"I- no! I'm- I'm not… interested."

"You sure about that, babe?" Blaine once again had his hand on Kurt's thigh, but this time Kurt was able to move it faster.

"No! I- I mean yes, I'm sure."

Blaine turned back around in his seat "Sure you don't."

Kurt let out a relieved sigh, happy that Blaine was leaving him alone. Unfortunately that happiness didn't last long, as he was left to his thoughts. Why was Blaine even talking to him, let alone flirting- could it be considered flirting? Kurt knew he wasn't attractive, this was probably all a stupid game the popular kids decided to pull on the new guy. This guy Blaine probably wasn't even gay, he was likely straight as a stick and this was all really funny for him and his friends. It would explain why he was talking to him. No one talked to him. No one had talked to him in a casual conversation for almost a year, besides his father of course, and… the nurses… but they had to, it was their job. This had to all be a game and Blaine was just braver than the rest of the jerks. Blaine with the golden eyes that looked so interesting and simple at the same time. Blaine with the smooth voice that makes Kurt want to listen to it all the time. Blaine that- wait. Oh crap. He was staring at Blaine, and Kurt didn't even know how long Blaine had been looking at him too. Kurt jerked his head forward, blushing again.

Why was he paying so much attention to him anyway? _Because he's the only person showing interest in you_ his mind supplied, which Kurt shook his head at. He didn't need to be like all those people that think they're in love in high school, he didn't need a relationship, he didn't need anyone. He was just fine by himself. Being by himself meant that no one could hurt him. No one would break his heart or leave him with no explanation. He could take care of himself and then his life wouldn't be complicated. That was it.

This guy wasn't going to do him any good. Only make him think he had a chance, make a date, stand him up, and the next day he would be the laughing stock of McKinley. Well Kurt wouldn't fall for it. No matter how handsome he was, how his eyes just seemed to lure you in until there's no point of return… he was staring again. Damn he needed to stop doing that.

The bell ending class stopped his thoughts from progressing any further and Kurt began packing up his books into his bag slowly.

"You looked pretty distracted there, babe. Want me to help get whatever it was off your mind?" Kurt turned behind him to where Blaine was standing; black tote bag hanging off his left shoulder, hazel eyes staring at his, and smirk on his lips. But Kurt stayed silent. He wasn't going to play whatever game this was. He wouldn't let them win.

"Goodbye, Blaine." He turned around and began heading for his next class- Home Ec.

He made it to the class on time and found a seat in the back corner- he learned early on that sitting at the front got you called a teachers pet, and things thrown at you, sitting in the middle made people say that you wanted to be in the popular crowd and things thrown at you, and sitting in the back made it harder for people since they would have to turn around, and would see the things they were about to throw at him, so most people gave up. Sitting in a corner just helped his case.

They didn't do much, just introduced the new section and lesson they would be working on for a few weeks, and when the bell let out for lunch, Kurt was glad to leave.

He had lunch next, so he headed for the cafeteria, got his lunch in the over-crowded line, and was able to find an empty table near the back.

About five minutes after sitting down and taking small bites of his salad, there was a shadow above him. He looked up to see the same girl that introduced herself yesterday- what was her name? Oh that's right, it was Mercedes.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" she asked shyly

"I- sure sure." First she talks to him, now she wants to sit with him at lunch. There is clearly something going on.

"Why are you sitting here, with me?" he asks after a moment. She looked shocked, a bit hurt even. "I- I'm sorry that came out wrong. Why are _you _sitting with _me? _I'm sure you have friends you'd rather have lunch with."

"You looked lonely, and I didn't know if you had a friend here and I thought that maybe I could be that friend."

"You want to be my friend?" Kurt asked skeptically

"Yeah I mean, everybody needs somebody."

"No I don't." he shot quickly, instinctively. "If this is some pity party you can just go." He was shutting down. Closing the walls. It was good. She couldn't hurt him if he didn't trust her. They say trust is something great, and maybe it is for people who don't break it, but everyone he was around broke his trust. He wouldn't let that happen again.

"This isn't a pity party, Kurt, this is me, and maybe it's just me wanting another friend, but this is just me and it's not under an ulterior motive to try and pity you. You may think you don't need anyone but I think you do."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know that you think you're better off lonely, but I also know that friends can be great ok and-"

"I wouldn't be a good friend anyway. You wouldn't want me as a friend."

"You don't know that."

"Look at me! We're fighting and we aren't even friends, we hardly know each other! How is that a good thing? How could we be friends?"

"You'd be surprised." She spoke softly "Look," she spoke louder now "just try ok. Try for yourself. You never know what something is like if you've never tried it."

"I've had a friend before." Kurt said bitterly "And it didn't exactly turn out well."

"Ah but you see, you haven't had _me_ as a friend. Everyone is different, Kurt."

"I don't know about that." He mumbled, mentally revisiting some of the more violent times of last year.

"Fine, whatever." He agreed finally.

"So, Kurt tell me about yourself." Mercedes said after a few silent moments between the two

"What do you want to know?" Kurt tried to get back to at least partially happy, at the very least he didn't want to be angry like this, he didn't even know why. This girl didn't do anything to him, he should give her a chance.

She thought for a while, but finally came up with "What's your birthday?"

"October ninth. You?"

"March fifteenth. You ask a question."

"I just did."

"No," she disagreed with a wave of her hands "a different question."

Kurt sighed "Um, favorite color?"

"Purple, you?"

"Blue. Your turn."

"Favorite movie?"

_Breakfast at Tiffany's _"Star Wars" he let the lie slip easily off his tongue. He had come up with answers that weren't _too gay_ as soon as he found out that he was transferring schools.

"Hmm. I'll admit, I'm a Tangled fan."

"Disney's always good. Book?"

"Hmm… I don't know but I can tell you it's definitely one of the Harry Potters'."

"Nice, me too."

Mercedes put her head in her hand and looked off into the distance. Kurt didn't disturb her, she probably just didn't want to be here with him. It was quiet for a few short seconds, before she whispered "What do you like in a guy?"

Kurt froze, eyes wide as he stared at her, who obviously hadn't noticed his distress. He didn't know how she knew, but he knew that he should stop looking so guilty before a group of guys came over when they found out what they thought was true.

She looked at him a moment later, and realizes what she said. "Oh! I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that it's just this guy I really like that barely knows I exists just came in and I'm so used to talking with the girls I didn't meant to say that you like girls I get it I really didn't mean it." She took a deep breath and looked at him with pleading eyes when he still wouldn't move "Please say something."

"I-" he couldn't "I- uh" he wouldn't. "I-" he coughed "It's fine. Honest mistake, we all make 'em." Good. Safe.

"Oh thank goodness! I'm really sorry it just slipped out and I'm used to talking to girls."

"It really is fine, Mercedes"

Lunch after that goes pretty smoothly, Mercedes attempts small talk, which dies out when he ends up giving as little answer as possible, until they are dismissed for the next class.

Kurt walks into Geography without bothering to look up, things have been going pretty good for him. Sure it's only been two days, but his father has told him to be more optimistic, and that's what he'll do.

He manages to get a seat in the back again, and takes out him books to prepare for the lesson, when a certain hazel eyed beauty walks through the door.

"Well you're not following me. Did you steal my schedule then, babe?" Blaine said as he brushed past Kurt into the seat beside his, and Kurt forgets to answer the question, finding himself lost in the shorter boys' eyes.

The teacher- Ms. Williams he sees as he looks at his schedule- comes in the room and takes roll. Kurt keeps his head down, raises his hand when he is called, and then is silent as the lesson continues on.

While Ms. Williams droned on about geography, there's a sound of a pen scratching across paper and then a second later, a small, folded piece of paper is being slid onto his desk.

He's scared to look at it, it could be anything; a threat, a simple remark from someone too scared to say it to his face (not that he would ever say that) an- _address._

Well he certainly hadn't been expecting that.

Underneath, with neat handwriting is '_the offer still stands, babe'_.

Kurt chances a glance to the right, to see Blaine staring at him, almost not blinking, mouth in its usual upward tilt, and a pen being spun around his fingers.

Kurt looks away again, staring intently down at his book, not wanting to look at that boy again. With the stupid curly locks of hair and honey eyes and near flawless skin and his persona that just seems to emanate a feeling of danger and excitement that Kurt knows he can't get himself involved in. It would only lead in getting hurt.

He could still feel the long-gone bruises as if they were telling him something.

_Stay away. _Kurt thought _stay away and don't bother anyone. If they can't see you they can't hurt you. _

By the time the bell rang, Kurt was tired, angry at himself and others, and just wanted to go home.

* * *

**a/n not gonna lie, i have no idea when the next one will be out, but it should be sooner than this one took *crosses fingers***


	5. Chapter 4

_oh my god guys I am so so so sorry! You have full right to hate me forever if you want! I have so many excuses for why I didn't post this earlier, but then the authors note would be longer than the chapter._

_That being said, this chapter is shorter than I hoped it would be. I wanted to write more but then I knew you would probably rather have something than nothing, even if it was shorter._

_Unlike last time I won't promise that the next chapter will be up any time soon (sorry! so sorry) because I have terrible writers block and school and blah blah._

_sorry for the long authors note, please enjoy (and get your klaine senses tinglin')_

* * *

Blaine's house.

It was big. Like really big. It was nothing he would have expected from the boy.

It had taken a little over half an hour to find it with the address given to him. Of course the fact that he walked here didn't help to speed things up.

But that was just it. He didn't want to rush getting here. To be honest, he was terrified. Not because of Blaine's appearance, or the rumors that followed him everywhere he went, but because he didn't know what would happen if he went inside. This could still be a trap. This might not be Blaine's house. He might've written a fake address and when he knocked on the door the person who lived there would think he was crazy and call the cops.

Ok he knew that that probably wouldn't happen but he couldn't stop his mind from swarming with ideas on why Blaine would invite him to his house. There were only a couple of good reasons. But as the time went by they kept getting crazier, but they were still possibilities. Unlike usual, the walk hadn't soothed his mind, and he had almost turned around too many times to count, but then he remembered the chance that maybe Blaine was here, he wanted to see him, and maybe, just maybe, the could be sort of friends. If he was lucky. And, well… when was he ever lucky?

_Just ring the damn bell. _He did.

There was silence for a few minutes and Kurt was ready to turn away (an empty house was also one of the possibilities his mind created) but then there were a few footsteps from inside. Kurts' heart picked up. Either it was Blaine or some stranger, but either thought made it happen anyway. The door opened and he let out a breath. Blaine was here. This was Blaine's house _unless he is just here and then he'll invite you again but it'll be a joke and he'll be in his house and you'll look like a fool here next time. _Kurt mentally shook his head. Blaine wouldn't do that, right? But really he didn't know the boy at all, who is he to say that?

Blaine leaned on the doorway, shamelessly raking his eyes over Kurts' form and smirking. Blaine looked mostly like he did at school, he was wearing a tight white tee-shirt and red pants, but Kurt didn't have time to look long, as Blaine turned back around with a "Well come on, babe. Don't wanna stand out here the whole time."

Kurt followed Blaine through the house and up the stairs with his eyes down. Blaine opened a door at the end of a hallway and the taller boy walked in after him. The door was slammed shut behind him and he was pushed into it. Kurt closed his eyes and prepared his body for the blows, but then there were lips on his and he was too shocked to move. They were slightly rough but moist so they moved fluently over his still ones. When the lips moved away, Kurt's eyes fluttered open –when had he shut them?- and he took the moment to open his eyes and look at the boy in front of him, but he didn't get the chance to as Blaine quickly moved in again.

The shock was still there, but in a slightly less way, but he still had no idea what to do. He didn't know how to kiss someone, or even if he was enjoying what was happening, so he let Blaine's lips guide his own. After a few moments, he started moving his mouth on its own, in what he hoped was the right way.

He felt hands come up to hold his face, and it was almost like a switch saying _This is real. This is happening! _And he started to worry again. What if he was doing this all wrong? What if all this was still a joke (yes that was still a possibility to him) He would walk into school tomorrow and everyone would laugh at him and throw him into lockers and shove him to the floor. He wo-

His thought process was halted when Blaine's tongue licked under his top lip and they fell open in shock as well as pleasure. Just as things were getting even more heated (was that even possible? Kurt's skin felt like it was on fire.) The sound of a door opening made Blaine pull back and remove his hands from Kurt's face. His eyes were looking across Kurts', and he started to feel extremely self-conscious. _This is where he tells me I was horrible. That I need to leave so he can clean his mouth with bleach and never look at me again. _Of course that wasn't what happened.

There was the sound of something plopping loudly downstairs, and then there were heavy footsteps on the stairs and _oh god oh god oh-_ he was pushed aside gently- but quickly- seconds before the door opened to a tall man that looked much like Blaine, except his dark hair was gelled professionally and was greying on the edges, his green eyes narrowed and looked over at the unfamiliar boy, then turned angry quickly.

Kurt's eyes were wide as the man turned back to the shorter boy "How many damn times, Blaine," he spat before turning to Kurt "get out of my house you faggot." And Kurt hurried out of the room, trying to get out of any further confrontation from the man and hoping that he wouldn't follow behind him.

He found himself worrying for Blaine, hoping that nothing bad happened to him, because he may not know him much at all, and he might be rude, no one deserved that.

* * *

His weekend was resolutely quiet. Because while his father worried for him and wanted to be sure nothing happened again, it was still awkward. Kurt couldn't blame him, everything was awkward in his life. He made it this way, and while he was accustomed to live with what he did himself, he hated to drag others into his mess. Especially his father.

The quiet left him to think. Thinking about his past, Blaine, the kiss (he was still so confused about what had happened with that), and whether him and his father had gotten into an argument, and how things turned out. He fervently wished that Blaine wasn't hurt, but he knew those things didn't always turn out the way you wanted them to, and for some people, the fact that you are family didn't automatically mean love was free- flowing and endless.

All the worrying kept his mind from focusing on doing anything else for long, whether it be reading or drawing or even sleeping, trying to at least. Because now the angry face of Blaine's father was added to his long list of nightmares that plagued his mind and kept him from sleeping more than a few hours at a time.

He found himself wanting to call Blaine and ask if he was okay, but he didn't have his number, which was good, because if he had his number Blaine would have his and he would give it to his friends and his phone would once again be filled with threats and derogatory comments at all hours.

He didn't want to deal with all that again.

At 5pm he gave up and let his mind fill with thoughts and worries.

At 10 he took his medicine and laid down to sleep

At around 10:30 thoughts were numbed and almost forgotten as he slowly drifted to sleep.

Then at 6 he woke again, forcing himself to face the dreary day left before him.

* * *

I'll try to write more so you won't have to wait however many months this one took, but it honestly probably will be parts not in the next chapter (to be honest I don't know what I'm going to do for the next chapter)

love and cookies for those who (miraculously) don't hate me!

(just so you know I'm working on writing AS YOU READ (that is if you read in the first at least hour after I post, seeing as it's almost 11pm here and I'm going to bed soon)


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